


this world is not meant for you

by pawn_vs_player



Series: DefectTale [11]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Adopted Sibling Relationship, Angst and Tragedy, Asexual Character, Backstory, Bad Spanish, Bigotry & Prejudice, Bilingual Character(s), Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Child Abandonment, Child Abuse, Child Murder, Domestic Violence, F/F, Femslash, Forgone Conclusion, Friendship/Love, Gen, Gender Dysphoria, Ghosts, Historical References, I'm Sorry, Immigration & Emigration, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Period-Typical Racism, Poverty, Pre-Canon, SOUL Mechanics (Undertale), Self-Hatred, Single Parents, Suicidal Thoughts, Telepathy, Trans Male Character, Transphobia, War Era, ain't that a happy collection of tags, but you knew that already, everyone dies, references to slavery, suicide ideation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-13
Updated: 2017-03-21
Packaged: 2018-09-08 06:14:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8833540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pawn_vs_player/pseuds/pawn_vs_player
Summary: There are eight fallen children who survived the fall. There are seven fallen children who didn't survive the Underground. There is one human child who saved everyone and broke the barrier.(There is one human child who died in a field of golden flowers and lived once more in a scientist's lab.)Everyone deserves to have their side of the story told. 
   ((RETITLED: FORMERLY "we paint white roses red"))





	1. Orange (Alex)

**Author's Note:**

> *The author is perfectly aware that the human souls were really only ever a plot device, but FUCK THAT.  
> *They were kids. KIDS. They were actual people with stories that got buried with their bodies, and if DefectTale's taught the author anything, everyone has a story to tell and everyone deserves an audience.  
> *So, here we are: the nine fallen souls of Undertale.  
> *Yes, the author said nine. It's not a miscalculation.  
> *You'll see what they mean later.
> 
> *The author hopes you enjoy, and if you do, that you please comment and kudos!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bravery does not equal cruelty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *The author has no idea how long apart the human souls fell, or what time periods they hailed from. The game has not been very helpful in gathering details about this.  
> *They've decided to base everything post-World War One as a general baseline, because the "modern world" can be considered to have begun there and the author needs some kind of relatability to the world they themself live in.  
> *They hope you enjoy the chapter!

It's because someone dared you, and you're famous for never having been able to turn down a dare.

 _Betcha won't spend a night on the mountain!_ Jimmy had yelled, pointing at you, and you'd scowled and said  _Hell yeah I will!_ and mama scolded you for swearing and Jimmy giggled and Jimmy's sister told you not to be foolish. You told her you'd never pretended to be smart, and mama slapped your wrist and told you not to be a smart aleck. 

So you wait until mama's gone to bed, and you put on your coat and and put the boxing gloves Uncle Arthur got you for Christmas in the pockets of your coat because you never know who you might encounter, and you go up the mountain. 

It's a long walk, even thought you live nearly at the base of it. But you've been training like Papa did, before he went off to the war, just like Uncle James told you before he enlisted. You breathe in through your nose, out through your mouth, and you try to think about things other than the ache of your legs.

It's dark and it's cold. You realize that you need proof you did this, or Jimmy won't believe you, so you start looking around for some kinda evidence that you really did spend the night here.

It's dark, and it's cold. You're shivering and the shadows are deep, cutting dark swathes into the ground. You're tired and you look up at the moon, and something catches on your foot, and you fall.

 

You wake up in a patch of golden flowers. The sunlight hurts your eyes.

 _Please get up_ , someone says. "Mama?" you ask, and then you remember.

You sit up hard, wincing; your head spins and aches. You squint.

There's another kid sitting in the flowers, and they're staring at you with big red eyes.

You scramble back. Devil, demon child, red is the color of blood and death and Hell-

 _Please, don't be frightened of me,_ the child whispers.  _I mean you no harm. I want to help._

You stare at them. "Who are you?"

_I am Chara._

 

Chara tells you that you fell into the Underground, the one from your nanna's stories. "There are monsters?" you ask, remembering that part. "Are they gonna hurt me?" You pause. "Did they hurt you?"

Chara flinches. Their body flickers, going transparent for a minute. You jerk back. 

 _No. No, they didn't,_ Chara says finally.  _They're good people. It was only humans who hurt me._

You frown. "Then why're they called monsters?"

Chara shrugs.  _I think 'monster' didn't used to mean something bad. I think it was us humans who made it that way._

You think, and nod. That makes sense. "German" didn't use to be a bad thing to be, until the War. The family across the street, the ones with the store that sells strudel- mama says they only got scary after the War. That makes sense, that if the humans hated the monsters like Americans hate the Germans, that monster would be a bad word. "But some of them must be bad, right? We wouldn't hate them with no reason, right?" The Germans killed a bunch of people. That's why papa fought them and why mama cries at night. 

Chara shrugs again.  _I haven't met any bad monsters._

 

Chara tells you that you can't get out of the Underground. You scream at them. Screaming is okay. It's anger and fear. Men scream.

Chara explains why. You cry for a while, because no one's here to scold you for crying even though you're a boy.

 

You stand up after a while. Chara stands with you, but you notice that their feet don't quite touch the ground. "Chara? Are you okay?"

They shake their head.  _I'm a... ghost, I guess._

You blink at them. "That's so  _cool!_ "

They smile at you, a little.  _Let's explore, okay?_

You nod. "Okay!"

 

There's a doorway. 

 _Let's go through it,_ Chara suggests. 

You're a big boy. Mama says you're a good one, when she's not angry at you.

You consider putting on your gloves, but if the monsters are as kind as Chara says, you shouldn't have to. Besides, if you do put them on, the monsters might attack you because you scare them.

You step through the doorway with bare hands.

 

 

There are weird, large frog things. Chara calls them Froggits and tells you to compliment them, so you do. 

They blush, somehow, and then they give you gold sometimes. There are other weird little monsters, things Chara calls Moldsmals and Whimsums. You compliment them or talk to them or dance with them (these things are  _weird_ ) and they let you pass. Chara smiles at you when you're kind to them, so you smile back.

You find puzzles, too. You aren't very smart, but they're not too difficult, not like the ones at school are sometimes. Chara calls them childsplay until they notice your slumped shoulders. They remind you that you're a child, and so are they. There's no reason to be ashamed, they insist. There isn't.

You aren't sure you believe them, because you'll be an adult in a few years and kid stuff is a waste of time and a waste of money, but Chara wants to make you feel better so you smile at them. 

 

There's another door. There's music and the smell of baking on the other side.

You decide to open it.

 

There's a large monster on the other side.

Chara gasps when they see her.  _What are you doing here?_ they ask, but the large monster- sheep? goat? she looks like something from Uncle Arthur's farm- doesn't seem to hear.

"Oh my!" she says, seeing only you. "A human child! Are you alright, dear?"

 _Mommy?_ Chara whispers. 

"Yes," you say, because she's asking you and not Chara. "Who are you?"

"I am Toriel," the goat-sheep-lady says. "I am the Keeper of the Ruins."

 _No,_ Chara says, _Mom, what's going on, why are you here? Where's Dad?_

"How do I go home?" you ask.

Toriel's face falls. "Oh, my child, I'm sorry. You cannot."

 

The King of the Underground is Chara's dad, Toriel's ex-husband. Toriel left because after Chara _and their other child_ died, King Asgore swore to kill any human who fell.

Chara doesn't believe it.

You think of war and missing parents, a grandmother who lost a son and a wife who joined protest rallies against communism and German immigration. You think of an uncle who preaches forgiveness and another who preaches vengeance.

You believe it.

 

"This can be your home now," Toriel offers, and Chara screams. "What is your name, my child?" and Chara roars their own. "Alex," you say, and Chara begins to cry.

Toriel sends you to bed, and you try your best to comfort your ghost companion. "I'm sorry," you say. _Be quiet,_ Chara demands. You comply.

 

You stay with Toriel for two weeks, and then it isn't fun anymore.

You miss your mama. You miss your uncles and Aunt Janie. You miss Jimmy. You want to go home.

"Child, you cannot." Toriel stands in front of the doors, eyes bright. "He will kill you. The Royal Guard has orders to collect every human soul they can. You will die."

"I'm human," you say. You push your hands into your pockets, rubbing your fingers against the red gloves inside. They make you feel stronger. "I'm gonna die eventually anyway."

Toriel reaches out to you. "But you need not die so terribly, my child. Please," she begs, "stay here. I will do everything I can to make this a good home for you."

You lift your chin. "This _isn't_ my home, Missus Toriel, and it won't never be. I gotta go home to my mama."

Toriel slumps. "My child..."

"I gotta go, Missus Toriel," you say again. "My mama's gonna be worried about me."

Toriel sweeps you into a hug. "Take this," she says, pushing a bag and a slice of pie into your hands. Her eyes are shining. "I cannot have you going hungry on the road."

 _Mom,_ Chara says softly. 

"Thank you," you say. "You're really nice, Missus Toriel. 'M glad I met you."

Toriel sniffles and wipes her eye. "I'm glad I met you as well, Alex. Be safe, my child."

She opens the large, heavy doors for you. You walk outside.

 

It's cold, but you still have your coat. You flip the collar up to better warm your neck and pull your gloves on to shield your hands from the cold. White drifts down from above. "How is there snow if there's no sky?" you ask Chara.

They shrug.  _Magic, I guess._

You walk and walk. In through the nose, out through the mouth. Good boy, Alex. You'd make your daddy proud. Now do another mile and you can have dinner.

It's cold, but the voice of your uncle is warm.

 

You find a town. The bunny-woman in the shop calls it Snowdin and asks you your name. She gives you a treat and tells you to come back anytime.

The monsters here are kind. Some of them don't even seem to realize you're a human.

Except that then you wander out past the town limits, and there's a guard station. The Royal Guard will kill you, Missus Toriel said, and there they are.

The monster sitting in the station is a bunny-man, like the shopkeeper. He has a sword resting on the counter of the station.

You take a deep breath. "Hello?" you call, and the guard's eyes snap right to you.

He jumps upright and grabs his sword. "Human," he says, walking closer to you. You gulp and stand your ground. His face softens a little. "It'll be easiest if you don't fight me," he tells you. "Do you surrender?" 

He shouldn't have asked that.

Be like your father make your daddy proud he stood in the line of fire he was a brave man he was a good man he was a great soldier he was brave he stood tall he didn't give up he was strong and wonderful your daddy was a good man and a better fighter he was so brave he was stubborn as a mule he never gave up and  _never surrendered._

"No."

The guard sighs and readies his sword. "So be it."

 

You don't kill him, though for a moment it feels like you might have to. Your dad killed plenty of people, and everyone's telling you to be just as good a man as your dad.

But dad was a soldier in a war, and he killed bad guys. You're a kid in a strange land, and this monster is just doing his job.

So you don't kill him. You hit him a couple time, get hit once, and then you ACT- you ask his name. You ask why he tried to give you a merciful death. You ask why he joined the Royal Guard. You tell him your name. You ask him why he wants to fight you.

You *spare him. 

He *spares you.

His name is Linny. He tells you his sister lives in Snowdin and he tells you to go on ahead.

"Someone'll get you eventually," he tells you, and his voice is heavy with conviction. "It doesn't have to be me." He raises a hand in farewell and wishes you good luck in a tone that implies you'll need it.

"I like him," you say, mostly to yourself.

 _So do I,_ Chara agrees.

 

You keep walking.

 

Waterfall is beautiful. You meet a turtle monster named Gerson who Chara recognizes and says hello to. He doesn't hear them, but you think Chara's getting used to that.

You say hello for them.

Gerson's a little odd, but he's nice. He gives you tea and tells you about his war, the human-monster war, and he answers all the questions you lob at him. You decide you like Gerson. He's a little like your grandpa, and your grandpa was weird, but you loved him.

Gerson tells you you're a brave boy. He laughs when he says it, but you've learned that he laughs at a lot of things. You stay with Gerson for a while.

"I think it's time to be brave again, kid," he tells you. "Time to get back on your journey."

You hug him because there's no one else around to see. "Thank you."

He chuckles and wraps one arm around your shoulders. "My pleasure. Now, get on with yourself before I talk myself hoarse."

You're smiling when you leave him.

 

Gerson isn't the only monster in Waterfall, though.

You hear her before you see her. What other monster both sloshes and clanks?

"What do I do?" you whisper to Chara.

_Don't hurt her. Follow my lead._

You round the corner, already shaking, and are confronted with exactly who you expected to see.

Neread, Head of the Royal Guard, water elemental. Chara's told you plenty about her.

She's an odd spectacle, water held up and in humanoid figure by sheer force of will, wrapped in shining armor. She's an odd spectacle, but that doesn't make her any less terrifying.

"HUMAN," she says, and you squeak a little. "ARE YOU GOING TO SURRENDER YOUR SOUL?" She frowns, or seems to- her face isn't exactly expressive.

You gulp. Your fists clench inside your boxing gloves. 

"No."

She frowns harder, you think. "HUMAN. I DO NOT WISH TO DRAG OUT YOUR DEATH, BUT IF YOU DO NOT SURRENDER, I WILL BE FORCED TO."

You shake your head. "You won't kill me."

She raises her hand and the waters around you raise with it. "SO BE IT. I WARNED YOU, HUMAN."

 

You think you're going to have to fight back, for a minute, because you  _hurt_ and the blood dripping into your eyes is nearly blinding you.

But then Chara's at your side, soul warm and steady near your own.  _Plead. Plead for your life and show her who you are._

You drop to your knees, gasping for air. You swipe the blood out of your eyes and squint up at Neread. "Please stop. I don't want to die."

She looks unhappy, you think. "YOU MUST. IT IS MY KING'S ORDERS."

"Please," you say again. "I'm just a kid, I don't wanna die."

Neread, very abruptly, goes still.

"IF YOU ARE A CHILD," she says slowly, "SHOW ME YOUR STRIPES."

You unzip your jacket.

You're wearing the same shirt you fell down in. It's your favorite shirt, too, even though Mama calls it unseemly: broad orange and yellow stripes, with a small green star over your heart. 

Neread, you notice, is shaking. She backs away a step, then another, then drops to her own knees.

"GO FORWARD, HUMAN," she tells you. "I WILL NOT HAVE THE BLOOD OF A CHILD ON MY HANDS."

You obey.

 

"How'd you know?" you ask Chara a safe distance away.

 _Neread's a friend of my dad's,_ they explain.  _She always had a soft spot for me and the other court kids._ They pause.  _She lost her family in the war. Little brother and sister, her own daughter. She doesn't condone child murder, no matter the species._

"Thanks."

_No problem, partner._

 

Hotlands is hot. 

Chara warns you off of hugging the Vulkins, even though you want to. You pat them instead, sparing your hands and letting the gloves get a little singed. It's not like you've been using them anyway.

You do meet another elemental, though, on your way to the palace- New New Home, apparently, and good god Chara really wasn't kidding about their dad being terrible at naming- a fire elemental. He says his name is Grillby and he asks your name, so you tell him. You talk with him for a while, telling him about your journey, and then he sighs and asks you if you're ready to die.

"I'm ready to go home," you tell him.

" _You may have gotten this far,_ " Grillby says, quiet voice grim, " _but Asgore is determined, his heart ironclad. He won't spare you. The only way out for you is to take a monster's soul and slip through the barrier with it, and you haven't killed a single monster. You have neither the experience nor the ability to take Asgore's. You will not step out of that throne room. You are going to die._ "

You stare at him for a while. His brightness kind of hurts your eyes, but it's not the worst pain you've felt down here. "I'm gonna get home."

" _Go back to the Ruins,_ " Grillby asks softly. " _You will be safe there._ "

"Missus Toriel's a good person," you reply, "but she's not my mama. She's never gonna be my mama. I'm gonna go home to her."

Grillby shakes his head. " _I am sorry, child. I hope your death is swift._ "

He walks away.

"I'm going to go home," you say aloud to no one but yourself. "I will. I'm going to go home and see my mama."

Chara says nothing.

 

You leave the gloves behind. You haven't used them once. It doesn't seem like you're going to.

Maybe Grillby will find them. Maybe someone else will, and find a better use for them than you did. 

You hope so. You hope they don't go to waste.

 

The castle is quiet and mostly empty. Your footsteps echo in the halls.

You're going to get home. You will. You didn't come this far just to give up at the last hurdle.

Mama will be worried about you.

She's lost Dad already. You won't let her lose you as well.

 

Asgore looks like Toriel at first glance.

He stands in his garden of golden flowers with a small watering can in hand. He has no weapon, no armor, simply a purple cape over golden ceremonial-looking clothes.

 _Dad,_ Chara whispers, and you see their trembling hand reaching out to the father they will never again touch.

You're going to go home. You're going to see your Mama.

"King Asgore?"

 

He turns slowly, like he doesn't want to see who's standing there. He doesn't speak when he finally does face you.

"I'm sorry to bother you, but I need to go home and you're, you're in front of the barrier. I gotta go home, your Majesty." You shuffle your feet, feeling awkward. Missus Toriel was only an ex-queen- you've never met royalty before, especially not royalty that wanted you dead. 

Asgore is still silent.

"Please, King Asgore," you say, voice faltering. To your horror, you feel tears welling in your eyes- boys don't cry! "Please, I gotta- I gotta get home. My mama- my mama's gonna be worried 'bout me. I gotta go see my mama."

Finally, the King stirs. He raises dark eyes to yours and puts his watering can down.

"I once had two children," he says, and beside you Chara shudders. 

_Dad, please-_

"Do you know what happened to them?" he asks you, voice entirely blank of emotion. "There are plenty of memorials, and I am sure my people were talkative. Do you know what happened to them?"

"They're dead," you say, and you don't let your eyes stray to Chara. "They tried to collect the souls to break the barrier, but they failed. They were killed."

"Yes," Asgore says, and the word is as heavy as the mountain over your head. "Humans murdered my children."

He straightens up. He towers over you, and your stomach wriggles. 

"What is it your human books say," he asks softly, "an eye for an eye? A tooth for a tooth?" 

His voice is cold as ice, and twice as lethal.

"A life for a life?"

You're shaking, but you are no longer ashamed. Fear is natural, mama told you, every soldier feels fear, bravery is simply learning to overcome it- 

"King Asgore," you say, "I need to go home to my mama."

The King is still for a very, very long moment. 

And then, a roar.

"MY CHILDREN WILL NEVER COME HOME TO ME!"

The trident comes from nowhere, the strike sudden and brutal. You dodge it, barely. The noise of Asgore's bellow echoing around you almost drowns out Chara's pleading screams. 

You are going to die, Grillby said. He won't spare you.

You look at the King of the Underground. He is fury, incandescent and painful, but below that, he is loneliness and he is agony and he is soul-deep sorrow.

No. Asgore is not going to spare you, no matter what you do.

 

 

You have never met your father. He and Mama were married only a few months before he was drafted into the war, and she found out she was pregnant mere weeks before he was killed in action. He was given a military burial in your hometown. His body lies under an ash tree in the church graveyard. 

All you know of him are stories: the ones from your Mama, of a brave, loving man who fought because it was the right thing to do; the ones from Uncle Arthur and Aunt Janie, of a sweet little brother who loved romance novels and the ocean, a man who wanted to help with the farm, a man who never wanted to be in the war; the ones from Uncle James, who spoke of a fallen hero, a man tempered by fire and ill fortune, a man who wanted peace and was chosen to fight for that peace; the ones from Nanna, of a good boy who wanted nothing to do with war, who was dealt a bad hand in life and made the best of it until God decided it was time to bring him to Heaven.

What they all agree on is that he was a good man, a brave man, who fell in the war protecting other brave, good men.

Your father, they say, was a brave man who sacrificed himself for the greater good.

You, they say, are so much like your father. You, they say, would make your daddy proud.

 

 

This time, when Asgore brings his trident down, you do not try to dodge.

 

It hurts like nothing else, but you bear it. It is the end now, and once this is done, you will have to bear nothing else.

Your vision is blurry, but you can still see Chara, red and wavering. "I'm s-sorry," you whisper, but you aren't even sure the words are coming out. "I couldn't b-bring you back t-t-to the stars."

You let your head loll back. Red is all you can see. 

"I l-love you, mama."

All you can see is white.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

You are the Orange Soul, the soul of bravery. You are the first soul collected by King Asgore Dreemurr. You are the second fallen human.

No one will remember your name. No one will tell your story. You are an orange, heart-shaped soul in a jar, and that is all you will be known as. You will be forgotten by monsters and humans alike.

But that's okay.

You know who you are. You remember who you are, who you were. You're still here, and you'll be here until your time comes.

You are Alex, the Orange Soul, the brave human. You are the second fallen human and the first one to fall to the strength of the Underground.

You are Alex, and you aren't going anywhere.


	2. Pale Blue (Maria)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patience does not equal passivity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *The author is a fucking marshmallow- aka, white and fat and full of unhealthiness- so if there are any cultural mistakes, they'd really like for you to inform them so they can fix it.  
> *They also apologize for their google-translate Spanish. Please correct their errors if you find them.  
> *The author hopes you enjoy Maria's story as much as you liked Alex's!

It's because you were waiting for Mama, and Esperanza couldn't wait any longer.

 _Vamos, hermana,_ she says, tugging at your hand, little green sneakers pushing at the ground. _Vamooooooos_ _, Mari, quiero ir a buscarla!_

 _Wait,_ you say, _Tenemos que esperar_ , because Mama said she'd be home soon, so you just gotta hold on a bit longer for Mama to come home.

 _Noooo!_ she yells, and then she lets go of you and runs.

 _ANZA!_ you yell, starting after her.  _Anza, no, sabes las reglas, no es seguro después de la oscuridad-!_

_Pero mamá está ahí afuera!_

_Mamá tiene una luz!_ you reply, speeding up. As fast as little bodies are, they don't have endurance. Anza's never run a mile from bullies before (and if you have any say in things she never will), but you have. You'll catch her.

 _Anza,_ you say once more.  _Anza,_ stop _. We need to go back._

 _I wanna find mamá,_ she says stubbornly, but she is slowing down, sneakers scuffling in the leaves _._

You dash ahead and grab her arm, pulling her to a stop. She squeaks.

 _Anza. Conoces las reglas y los riesgos_ _. It isn't_ safe. _We're going home before one of us cracks our head open falling down the mountain, and we'll wait for Mama there. And she'll make us tacos, tal y como te gustan._

Esperanza sighs and wriggles her arm out of your grasp, only to slip her fingers into yours.  _Si, Mari._

 _Buena niña_. You kiss her head.  _Come along now._

 

 

You take Mama's coat when she steps inside. _Anza quiere tacos,_ you warn her.

She chuckles wearily.  _Anza siempre quiere tacos. ¿Se comportó mientras yo estaba fuera?_

 _She ran out to find you,_ you admit. _La atrapé._

Mama hugs you and drops a kiss to your forehead.  _Buena niña. Eres la mejor hermana que podría pedir._

She steps back, letting you go, and claps her hands.  _ANZA! Un pajarito dijo que querías tacos?_

 

Mama's candles are guttering when Esperanza starts crying.

_Anza? Anza, que esta mal?_

She's blubbering into Mama's soft flower-patterned shirt. _Dejé c-c-caer_   _L-Leo en e-el, el bo-bosque, Mama..._

Mama glances at you, pleading in her eyes. 

You nod. 

 _Anza, it's okay,_ you whisper, crouching to pat her back.  _I'll go get him. Esta bien._

_B-b-b-ut-_

_I'll take Mama's light and be very careful. Estaré bien._

You kiss her cheek.  _Mama, dónde está la luz?_

 _The kitchen,_ she tells you. Then, quieter, as she pulls your ear down to her mouth:  _And take the cuchillo de juguete, too. No puede hacer daño tener protección._

You nod. You pull your sweatshirt off the hook and hide the toy knife inside it. It was an impulse buy last year, and it looks very real, even though it's safe enough for a child to play with. Mama approved your pick; living on the mountain isn't the safest of choices, but it is cheap. 

You take the light and switch it on.  _Adiós por ahora,_ you say.  _Mejórate pronto, Anza._

 _A-a-adiós, Maria!_ she whispers. Mama waves as the door closes behind you.

You pull your hood up over your ponytail and point the light at the dark trees. The wind whistles in the leaves. You shudder. 

There are a lot of stories about people who wander Mt Ebott at night, especially children. It's said they never come back, that there's a hole in the ground that swallows them up and leaves no trace. You would dismiss it as just rumors- you're a sensible girl, after all- but there was a real boy who disappeared up here years ago, almost your age. You don't know his name- it's not part of the story, maybe to keep up the whole mystic element- but you know which house he used to live in. Everyone knows which house he used to live in. His mother moved out and the neighborhood draped a flag over the doorstep and flowers grow wild in the yard, and a weeping willow was planted next to his window by the man next door before he got shipped out for active duty. 

You don't know much about that boy, other than that he disappears up on the mountain you now call home. You've heard that blue was his favorite color, and that he picked fights with anyone who messed with his friends. People say he had a father who died in the Great War and that he was a brave, reckless kid.

You're not. You have a mama who works hard to provide for the daughters she loves, a little sister you'll do anything to protect, and a father who stayed behind because you didn't have the money for a fourth ticket. You aren't reckless, because you can't afford to be. You work hard in school and you keep your head down on the streets and you live in cheap housing on a dangerous mountain because your mama can't afford anything more and you need to make her sacrifices worth it.  

You stumble over a tree branch and your mind snaps back to the present. Right. You need to pay attention. 

Your eyes lock to the ground, searching for bright blue anywhere. Leo is Anza's favorite toy, something Papa got her when she was still a baby in the old house in Mexico. He's a small lion- named Leo because Anza was not a creative baby- with a fluffy blue mane and a greener-toned body. Anza still carries him with her everywhere, even to school. She says she doesn't get teased for him; you're hoping she hasn't learned to lie.

You scuff through the leaves and push your bangs out of your eyes. Dios. You need to cut those again. It won't do to be blinded by your own hair when you need to see.

Your light catches on a tree, then drops. There- blue!

You hurry over and drop down onto your heels. Yes, Leo! You take a moment to rub your knuckles in the reassuring softness of his blue fur, then you wipe the dirt off him onto your pants. You stand and turn, squinting. Is that... yes, you  _think_ that's the light of your house. Plenty of people walk in these woods and you've taken a few turns, trying to follow the path Anza took earlier, so you can't just pick a set of footprints and say they're yours from just now. But that's your house, you're sure of it. Mama only uses candles after the sun sets, and the light in that window flickers like only a candle can. That and the silhouette in the window has Mama's thick curls.

You tuck Leo into the thick pocket of your sweatshirt- wouldn't do to lose him yourself, after this little journey- and point your light at the ground. You head back to your house with one hand tucked into your sweatshirt, alternately stroking Leo's mane and tapping the handle of your toy knife, or making sure the latter doesn't rip up the former. You would store them separately, but you've only got the one pocket. 

You glance up at the stars, letting your feet follow the beam of your flashlight and your eyes follow the curve of the constellations. There's the Osa Mayor, the only one Anza can ever pick out and, as a result, the only one you've memorized. You used to know more, you think. You faintly remember lying on the roof of your house in Mexico with your papa's hand warm on your belly, the other one waving in the air as he traced the shapes of star-creatures with names you've forgotten. 

You stumble.

Your light drops from your fingers, bouncing and rolling along the earth. Its beam wavers crazily, illuminating the space in front of you in random intervals.

There is no ground in front of you, or underneath you. Not anymore.

You're falling. 

You scream, reaching up for a handhold, but the earth is rising up too fast. Your fingers scrabble at the dirt and rock of the hole you're fast dropping down into, but you get no purchase. There's a harsh, sharp pressure against your abdomen that knocks the air from your lungs, and your fingers go limp on reflex. 

 _Anza,_ you think. _Lo siento_ _._

Something very hard collides with the back of your head, and you know nothing more.

 

The birds are chirping.

You groan. The sunlight's on your face, so Mama must have opened the curtains. 

"Mama, noooo," you grumble, rolling over.

Your nose bumps into something hard and you flinch, eyes popping open. 

And then you remember.

" _Dios mio,_ " you whisper, pushing yourself up. Dirt smears across your cheek and works into the creases in your palms. The movement of your knees send golden petals swirling up as they fall away from their flowers. The rock you hit your nose on is almost hidden by the waving blooms.

You look up. The hole is high above you, sheer rock walls stretching up and up. Sunlight drifts down, carrying birdsong and the scent of rain down with it, but the air down here remains musty. 

You wipe the dirt off your face with your sleeve. Your bangs fall into your eyes: your hair's come down out of its ties. One of the ribbons is tangled around a flower, gold meshing nicely with the red of the ribbon. The other...

You look up again.

The other is snagged on a rock, far too high for you to reach.

You sigh and pull your hair back. Mama likes you in pigtails, but you've always preferred a ponytail. It makes you look older.

You pause. Oh. Oh, dios mio.

Mama.

Mama doesn't know what happened to you. Anza doesn't know what happened to you. They'll be worried sick. 

You need to get home. 

You take a deep breath and press your fingers to the lump of the knife in your sweater pocket. You'll be okay. You have to be.

You start walking.

 

It's a series of purple rooms, filled with odd puzzles and bizarre creatures. They tend to leave you alone if you give a good swing at them, you discover. The more stubborn ones are more difficult; you have to listen to their complaints or ask for food, or else measure your strikes very carefully. You don't want to  _kill_ anyone.

There are signs on the walls. A rock speaks to you very rudely. You almost stumble over a literal ghost as they lie on the ground, but they're so sad and gentle that you can't bring yourself to swing at them. You listen to and encourage them instead, clapping when they show you their lovely hat. They sink away, embarrassed, leaving the corridor open.

 

You scream when the goat-woman appears. She backs off, allows you to get your balance; she speaks kindly, warmly, and she guides you through the rest of the strange puzzle-maze to her small house. "This tree never grows anything," she says sadly, looking at the piles of dead leaves. "As soon as they sprout, they fall."

You look silently at the mass of red leaves. You can't help but to think about the girl who jumped off the school building last year, the yellow tape blocking off the yard, the pictures in the paper and the scarlet-spotted sock you'd noticed as you passed by, before the police wrapped her up and took her away. The papers ran her obituary the next day, but you can't remember her name or what she looked like; only the red-splotched sock and the dirty white sneaker.

 

"The Underground is not safe," Toriel says. "You must stay here," Toriel says. "ASGORE will kill you," Toriel says. "I will lose no more children," Toriel says.

 _I am not your child,_ you want to say, but you force it down. You'll need her trust if you're going to get out of here. She's powerful enough to kill you herself if she chooses. Angering her isn't a good idea.

"Si," you say instead. "I'll stay."

_I'm sorry, Mama. I'll come home soon, I promise._

 

Somewhere in the second week of your stay in the Ruins, another ghost pops up. 

This one's different, though. Toriel can't see or hear them. They don't cry, and they're made of rojo, not blanco.

They call themself Chara.

 

Chara answers every question you ask- _why is Toriel keeping me here, how do I get out, how do I get home, what's outside the Ruins, are you okay, what sort of ghost are you, why do you look so sad all the time_. Eventually, they start telling you things you didn't ask to hear.

They tell you about a child who fell decades ago and killed themself for the sake of the kingdom they grew to call their own. They tell you about a brother who was too kind for his own good. They tell you of a boy with an orange soul who walked through the underground wearing boxing gloves but never hurt anyone, who was brave enough to stand in front of the King and offer up his soul. 

They tell you that boy's name is Alex, and that if you get out of the Ruins, you might be able to see him.

"But he's dead," you say blankly. 

Chara giggles.  _I'm dead,_ they point out,  _and I'm still around. He figured out how to stick around too._

"Oh," you say, and think for a minute. "...Si. I would like to meet him."

Chara smiles.  _I think he'll like you._

 

"I have to get out of here," you whisper. You are curled up in the corner of your room, tears stinging and burning your eyes. You don't know how long you've been down here. You have to go home. You need to see your Mama. You need to hug your  _hermanita._ You need to return Leo to his rightful owner.

Chara curls around your shoulders. They can't touch you, not really, but the mere attempt at help calms your breathing a little. You stuff your hand into the pocket of your sweater and clutch the little blue lion. 

 _Mama can't catch you if she's asleep,_ Chara says.

 

You sit down to dinner with Toriel. Chara sits next to you on the floor and says the punchlines to Toriel's jokes before she does.

Toriel tidies up the kitchen. You leave Chara behind, watching their mother, as you go to bed.

You don't take much. The clothes you wore when you fell, a bag to keep food in, and Leo. You leave the phone Toriel gave you on the bed and you sit on the floor, waiting for Chara.

 

 _It's time,_ they say, holding a finger to their mouth.

You stop in the kitchen, sneaking a couple slices of pie from the pantry. It's the one thing better than what you had on the surface. You think that maybe, if not for your family, you'd be tempted to stay just for Toriel's cooking.

But no. Toriel can't make tacos or fajitas like your mama can, and she  _isn't_ your mother, and Anza isn't here. You can't be happy here, not without them. You've grown used to life without your father, but you won't live without your mama and _hermanita_. You can't.

 

You leave your toy knife on the balcony: something tells you you're going to need a sharper blade.

You take Toriel's butcher knife with you. Chara frowns when they see you carrying it, but they don't tell you to put it back.

 

Chara leads you down the stairs to the forbidden door inscribed with the Delta Rune.  _Last chance to turn back,_ they say faintly, like they know it's not really a chance at all.

You take a deep breath.

You're tired of waiting. If something is going to happen, you're going to have to  _make_ it happen.

You push the doors open.

 

It is so, so cold. You are glad for your sweater. You keep your hands tucked in the pockets, knife held securely in your hand. You hate not being able to have your hands free, but if you lose your fingers you're completely screwed, so in the pockets they stay.

Chara mutters stories as you pass by places they used to play. They talk about their brother. Always about their brother. 

You wonder if you sound like that when someone gets you going on Anza. Then you wonder if Chara's only like that because they can't make any more stories with their brother.

 

You get to Snowdin, the next town (with yet another terrible name). 

There are Royal Guards in Snowdin.

There are a lot of Royal Guards in Snowdin.

There are a lot of Royal Guards in Snowdin, and all of them want you dead.

 

"Go," you tell Chara, watching the heavily armored bunny monsters rush at you. "Get out of here."

_What? They can't hurt me!_

"That's not what I meant," you bite out. "Go."

 _Why?_ Chara demands.

" _GET OUT OF HERE!_ " you yell. One of the Royal Guards stumbles a little. 

 _Why?_ Chara asks again.

You hesitate, but the guards are almost on you.

"...I don't want you to hate me," you say, very quietly. "Vete."

 

Chara goes.

 

They aren't going to spare you.

You hate it, and you're so, so sorry, _lo siento lo siento lo siento, lo siento mucho_ - 

but- 

but if they aren't going to spare you, then you can't afford to spare them.

 

 

 

 

You throw up when it's over.

Then you cry.

The dust clings to your sweater like it has a mind of its own. You feel sick, but you don't have anything left to vomit.

You hope very, very hard that Chara doesn't come back.

You hope harder that you won't run into anymore guards on your way out of town.

 

You collapse on the border of Snowdin and Waterfall, crying. You almost can't breathe through your wracking sobs.

Your knife is still in your sweater. You had almost dropped it with the dust, but something made you put it back. The pressure of the blade against your stomach makes you cry harder. 

You have to get home, but-

_is this worth it?_

 

Eventually, you start walking again.

You can't stop now.

 

 

You've gotten better at hiding. If the Guard can't see you, they can't fight you, and if they can't fight you, you can't kill them.

 

 

You stumble into Hotland and collapse. You are exhausted. You'd been practically stalked through Waterfall by this weird water-woman with spears made of ice. With Chara no longer around to offer advice, you feel the pain of your injuries twice as strongly. Your feet feel like you are walking on knives. The muscles in your legs are trembling too much to keep you upright.

You close your eyes. If a monster finds you, you have no doubt that you'll die.

At least this way it will be peaceful.  _Por favor, que sea pacífico._

 

You sleep.

 

You awaken to the sound of someone singing. Badly.

For a moment, your tired mind thinks  _Papa?_ He never could sing near as well as your mama can.

But no. No, he's not here. 

You open your eyes to _naranja_.

Your first thought is,  _Chara?_ But that isn't right either, because Chara is _rojo_ , and also because _el espiritu_ looks nothing like Chara.

" _Quién eres tú_?" 

 _El espiritu_ blinks at you. _...What?_

Oh. Right. English.

"Who are you?"

The ghost smiles.  _I'm Alex!_

It takes you a moment. "Chara's friend?"

Alex nods, still smiling.  _Mmhm. I fell a few years ago._ His eyebrows draw together.  _I'm not sure how many exactly. What year is it?_

You tell him. His smile slides off his face like water.

_That, that's not possible! It can't have been that long!_

" _Lo siento_ ," you tell him, forgetting yourself again. "I'm sorry. When did you fall?"

Alex fell twenty-one years ago. He'd be in his thirties, a real adult, if he had lived.

Alex cries. You sit with him quietly and wonder if that's going to be you with the next human who falls down, weeping over a life you never got to live.

 

You sit on the edge of a cliff, legs swinging as you look down into the lava. Alex floats at your side, legs crossed. The lava burbles and spurts, red and gold and orange splashing and flowing around the rocks. What Alex called the Core looms in the distance, big and metal and intimidating. You don't plan on heading there.

"What do you think I should do?" you ask eventually. The heat of the lava is making the residual damp from Waterfall steam off your shoes.

Alex undulates in discomfort.  _I... don't know._

"You must have some idea," you insist. "Come on."

Alex hesitates. "Help me," you say, very quietly.

 _Hotland has more guards,_ he replies. You wince.  _But it's the only way to Asgore, to the barrier. You won't be able to get out the way you came even if you had a boss monster soul- you can't fly._

You lift your head, looking across the gaps of bubbling heat to the palace in the distance. "The only way out is through the castle, with Asgore's soul. Right? That's the  _only_ way?"

 _Yes,_ Alex says, very gently.  _I'm sorry._

You glance at him. He gestures to himself.  _I couldn't do it. Even if he wasn't so powerful, I'd never be able to kill someone._ His smile is sad.  _I was doomed the moment I fell down here._

His hand brushes through your shoulder, like he's forgotten that he can't actually touch you.  _But you- you've got a chance! You can fight, you can get out!_

You shove yourself back from the edge of the cliff, getting sharply up. "I have to kill him to get out." You look at your hands. They're clean: you washed the dust away as soon as you could; but you still see the gray shimmer, feel the prickles of disgust. "I don't want to kill anymore."

Alex doesn't say anything. You're surprised to realize that you're disappointed. For some reason, you expected him to know what to do.

But then again, he's a kid, just like you. He died because he made the choice you're wavering on: to sacrifice your life to uphold your morals.

And yet, you've already killed. Your soul is already stained with LV, your hands are already coated in dust. You are already damned. If it means you can go home to your sister and your mama, what's one more death? The death of a( _nother_ ) murderer, no less?

You shake your head. It won't be one more. You'll have to kill the guards in the way, too.

And even if you succeed and go home, could you look your sister in the eye again? Would Mama see the sin weighing down your soul? Will the dust follow you forever, even if you escape?

You know the answer to that last question.

Yes.

You are never going to escape the horror and guilt of the deeds you've done. You killed people, monsters only trying to protect their home and themselves. You are the outsider, the invader. You are the enemy. You are the villain.

You turn around.

_Maria?_

"I know what I have to do," you say. 

 

 _Welcome to Hotland!_ the sign proclaims. 

You snort.

 

Waterfall is quiet, other than the fall of your footsteps and Alex's chattering in the background. Once, it might have annoyed you, but now his buzz is almost soothing. There's someone here with you, on your side; still here, despite the dust on your hands. Someone who understands the ache in your heart and the conflict you must face. Someone who knows what you're facing.

Chara had been struck down by humans. They never fought monsters. They were never the villain of their own story.

Alex is a good person, has always been one. No one could call him a bad guy, yet he still died- but he's not angry. He's forgiven the King for killing him, even begun to understand why it had to happen. 

You know he's going to stay with you no matter what.

 

You kneel in a patch of echo flowers. "I'm sorry," you say to one. "I didn't want to hurt anyone," to its neighbor. "I love you, Mama," to a third. "You'll make me proud, hermana," to another. "Goodbye," to the last.

You stand, step away. You look up at Alex, floating at your shoulder with a stricken look on his face.

_I didn't tell you what happened to me so you'd do the same._

"I know," you tell him. "This isn't your fault."

You look up, at the glittering stones embedded in the stones. You aren't going to see real stars again, but you'll give the monsters a chance to, someday in the future. "This is my choice, Alex."

_If you're sure._

"I am."

You are smiling.

 

"Get back, human."

You haven't seen this monster before. She looks reptilian, with green scales and clawed fingers, but she has gills like a fish. You shake your head. "I won't hurt you."

"I said get  _back,_ " she snarls, and then you notice the child hiding behind her legs.

"I won't hurt you," you repeat. You can't look away from the child. You haven't seen any children down here. 

It looks like its mother; scales and gills, two arms and legs with small claws jutting into the dirt, but this one is scaled blue, not green, and while its mother is bald, the child has tufts of messy red hair falling into its yellow eyes.

The mother snarls. You look back at her.

"Don't you dare touch her," she growls. "Don't even look at her."

"Mom-" the child says, tugging at her leg.

"Go," the mother snaps. "Go!"

The child runs. 

"I wouldn't," you protest. You would never have hurt someone your age, especially one who never even tried to hurt you!

But this monster doesn't know that, and doesn't trust you. Why would she? You've already proven yourself a killer.

"Please, I don't want to fight," you say. "Just go. We don't have to do this."

The mother laughs sharply. "Don't try to lure me into a false sense of security, human! I won't fall for your tricks."

"They're not-!"

But she's already attacking, summoning blades made of white magic and hurling them at you. You twist and dodge as best you can, but your feet ache and your heart's no longer in it. You stumble and scream as your shoulder is punctured.

Blood pours hot down your arm. You press your hand against it, hissing against the pain but knowing you must staunch the bleeding or you have no chance at all. 

Your opponent looks surprised at your actions. Did she not know humans bleed? Was she expecting you to do something else?

You force yourself upright and pull your hand away. You're still bleeding, but that doesn't seem to matter anymore. 

You feel... floaty. Like you're above everything else right now. Like nothing can touch you.

Part of you says that's the blood loss. Another, bigger, part of you says it's a way of easing the next step.

You pull out your knife. Your opponent nods and grits her teeth.

*She is ready to defend herself.

You put down the knife and kick it across the ground to her. It spins over the rocks, stopping near her toes.

She blinks at you.

You shake your head at her and press your hand back against your wound. The pain is coming back, pulsing in rough bursts. Your head spins. The floating feeling is dissipating to be replaced with pain and fear, cold and sharp against your insides.

You don't want to die. You don't want to make someone else kill you. You don't want to kill anyone else.

But, down here...

It seems like the only options are kill or be killed.

 

And you refuse to kill again.

 

When the blow comes, it's a surprise. You gasp, tasting iron in the back of your throat, and look down at the sharp tip poking out of your chest.

Scarlet spreads rapidly across your sweater. You see your soul floating in front of you, skewered but not yet cracking.

You fall to your knees, curling forward. The spear jerks backward out of your chest, taking your soul with it. 

You feel hollow. 

Your fingers fumble for your pocket even as your whole body grows numb. You see a large orange blob waver in front of you. Alex.

He reaches out for you, and for the first time, you feel his fingers on your cheek.

You might be crying. You aren't sure. 

The world is trembling, or maybe that's you. You can't tell the difference anymore.

Your fingers find what they were questing for. You force your hand out of your pocket and back up to your face so you can see your prize.

Leo's blue fur is matted with your blood. You drop backwards, barely feeling the impact as you hit the ground.

You press Leo to your face. Even with your blood on him, he's still soft.

Your vision is blurry, gray creeping into the peripherals, but you still see when Alex's orange is replaced by the outline of your killer.

Your fingers clench around Leo. You think of your sister.

It's the thought that forces the words from your mouth, along with the coughs and burbling spurts of blood. 

"I j-j-just wanted t-to g-go home t-to my fa-family."

You can't see her face. Your mind is filled with your mama, your hermana.  _Anza, I love you,_ you think, and you don't know whether it comes out of your mouth, too, whether it spills free like the thick, choking crimson in your mouth and your lungs.

_It's okay, Maria. It's okay. Let go._

An orange hand wipes wetness off your cheek. It's warm. 

_Let go now. Come on. There's a better place for you to go._

The voice trembles a little. 

You want to go to a better place, but you don't know how to let go. What do you let go of?

_C'mon, Maria. Just- let- go._

Your fingers relax. 

You stop trying to breathe past the blood.

The gray overtakes the world, and then the orange overtakes the gray.

 _Come with me,_ Alex says, eyes welling up but smile steady.  _It's better there._

 _Okay,_ you say, and take his hand.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

You are the Pale Blue Soul, the soul of Patience. You are the second soul collected for the kingdom, the only one taken by Amphitrite and given to the King. You are the third fallen human.

No one will remember your name. No one will tell your story. You are one of two souls in glass jars, disembodied and silent. You serve no purpose until all the other jars around you are filled. Your family will not forget you, and neither will your killer, but the rest of the world cares nothing for the girl who fell down a hole and died a just death.

You know who you are.

You know why you're here.

You are not gone, and you won't leave for a long, long time.

You are Maria, the Light Blue Soul, the patient human. You are the third fallen human and the second to fall to the strength of the Underground.

You are Maria, and you are not alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *For those of you who are confused: the monster Maria fights is Undyne's mother, not Undyne herself. The unnamed child is Undyne.  
> *The author is considering a quick side story about what happens to Undyne's mother (and why Undyne is alone and training with Asgore by the time the next human falls). It's very feelsy and heartbreaking, and it provides great background for Undyne, as well as what happens to the third human in the Underground.  
> *If anyone would like to see it, please comment and say so.
> 
> *The author had intended for Flowey to sprout up here, but then they remembered their timeline.  
> *For all the power Flowey held and all the RESETs he did, and for how long Chara's been around, Flowey isn't made until Alphys comes around.  
> *And Alphys won't show up for a few more decades.  
> *So... no Flowey for the next two or three humans. Sorry :/.
> 
> *EDIT  
> *Some people have, for whatever reason, shown interest in seeing shitty art of this series.  
> *Here's a link for you, darlings~: https://greetings-from-the-suffer-puppet.tumblr.com/post/158820149469/under-the-cut-shitty-illustrations-for-my-series


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